


Hamilton on His Side

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Caretaker!Angelica, Caretaker!Hamilton, Crying, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grandpa!George, Infantilism, Little!Alex, Little!Tommy, Madison is sick, Maybe it's fluff? Idk, Near Death Experiences, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, another day at work lmao, but only kinda, this is pretty cute guys, y'all should read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: SUMMARY EDITED AGAIN LMAO:This fic has little Tommy, caregivers Angelica and Hamilton, and is about to have little Alex. Probably papa Jefferson eventually. Yeah. Fantastic grammar, too, and Tommy has a southern accent. Those are my selling points. You should just read it. It's even still updating. Indefinitely.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



All was hell on Capitol Hill.

Well, that's how it seemed at least. A cacophony of ringing phones and yelling delegates both foreign and domestic had been polluting the airspace of D.C. for weeks. The usual rumbling of the political machine was normal, but the straight screeching of mechanics present those few weeks was not. It wasn't too surprising that the president's cabinet members were more than a little stressed. Well, most of them. A military affair as such was large scale, but didn't necessarily involve everyone in D.C. Certainly not the Secretary of the Treasury. 

Why, then, was Hamilton still trapped in yet another cabinet meeting?

He theorized it was some sort of vengeance tactic on Washington's part. Hamilton had become particularly adept at missing the meetings when he knew he wouldn't be too terribly needed and his time would be better served typing away on his computer. Washington had taken notice and at first let it slide, but soon sang a different tune and was perfectly fine with dragging Hamilton by the ear if need be. Luckily it hadn't yet come to that. Rather, he begrudgingly joined his appointed peers and observed their screaming matches. It was actually a bit odd not being the one doing the arguing. Instead he was just watching as Knox and Randolph hashed it out. Washington hadn't picked very cohesive cabinet members, truth be told. There had to be something working though, since the man had been elected to a second term and no major staffing changes had been made. Hamilton contemplated the president's decision making skills as he rapped his fingers against the oak table successively. A quick glance to the other seated members wasn't too eventful either. 

Madison wasn't there. That's wasn't a surprise, however. The man was frequently sick and his absence wasn't too notable in that circumstance. He probably would have just been whispering conspiratorially to Jefferson about the ongoing debate. Ah, Jefferson. A glance to him also wasn't too entertaining. Without Madison around and without Hamilton to argue with, he was an uneventful presence. Hamilton watched as the Secretary of State read back over hand-written notes mingled with more formal printed documents. He had a pen with him and would occasionally jot something down. His eyes seemed slightly sunken in, his shoulders slouching and posture slacking but stiff. It must've been days since he got any real rest. Seeing the usually put-together man in such a state was a tad unnerving, but Hamilton didn't mention it. After all, it wasn't any of his business and he'd be a hypocrite to try and call Jefferson out on his lack of proper self-care. 

Hamilton looked back down to his own notes written in an apparently fast scrawl that slanted across college ruled paper and filled the margins of printed documents. As was usual for his personal writings, the messy script would have been hard to read if you weren't Alexander Hamilton. 

Knox wasn't backing down and Randolph was becoming increasingly loud. Hamilton could feel a migraine surfacing and let his usually stuff posture slack a bit. The ache in his back that had been a dull pain hours ago was sharp and sudden to remind him of its presence. Oh well. More important matters than his health were at hand, after all. “That's underhanded,” started Knox, “and frankly ignorant. We're better off conceding now if our only idea is such a dishonest move that flatly violates the policies or NATO which we agreed to.” He had a point there. A point Randolph refused to agree with. Country first. Allies second. Hamilton turned away, looked back to Jefferson, and-- oh. Interesting. Typically sharp eyes were dull, or far away, rather. Wholly unexpected in his presence was Tommy, though Hamilton would wager he wasn't fully evinced. And then, all at once, Jefferson was back. He shook his head and cleared his throat quietly and his eyes were back to their usual shine. His posture stiffened once more and he was obviously aware of Hamilton observing him. Jefferson seemingly chose to ignore it and instead focus back in on the debate. Hamilton turned away and picked up his pen. It really was none of his business.

\----

There was an intermission. When both men were too out of breath to carry on, Washington sighed and dismissed his cabinet. They quickly went their separate ways without so much as a word. Things were still tense, but less so than they had been. Jefferson made his way towards the break room, unaware he was being tailed by his colleague. Hamilton wasn't trying to hide what he was doing, so much as he was purposefully not making too much of it. Call it what you want. He rolled his shoulders, the heat of the Virginian day making his suit stick to his skin uncomfortably. He'd be sure to loosen his tie as soon as he got the chance. The break room had better air conditioning than the main cabinet room in any case, so he would suffer a while longer. 

Upon entrance, Hamilton made his way to the coffee pot and pulled a cup from the cabinet above it. Jefferson was busy in the fridge, pulling out the lunch he had prepared for himself. Hamilton supposed that Jefferson had known it would be a long day. The man usually didn't bring food. And he also supposed that Jefferson was feeling particularly cordial, because he tore his sub in half and put one half on an available paper plate, sliding it towards Hamilton. Usually he would deny the food, maybe even get a bit offended by the gesture, but he really was hungry and he really was trying to come up better habits. He took the plate and sat at a table without a word of thanks. Jefferson didn't need to hear it to know. Hamilton watched as Jefferson sat at a different table and wasn't the least surprised. Kindness only extended so far, and tensions were still high from the meeting. The two cabinet members ate in relative silence as other employees came and went. Everyone was a bit too busy for small talk. Just another day in the White House, he supposed. He was ultimately grateful for the reprieve. His migraine hadn't been allowed to take full form, and was in fact waning as time and silence passed.

And silence did pass. Hamilton's phone vibrated in his pocket, the ringer still down for the meeting. He was guessing Eliza was trying to contact him and was surprised by the number instead on his screen. Jefferson probably wouldn't mind if he took the call in there, still occupied with his sandwich and some sort of phone game. It looked like Scrabble. Hamilton accepted the call and and out the phone to his ear. 

“Bonjour, Alexander!” Lafayette chimed, his smile audible. 

It made Hamilton crack a small smile himself. “Bonjour, Lafayette. Comment ça va? I imagine just as strained as us.” 

“Ah, ça va. Oui, even more so. Et toi, Alexander? It's been awhile since we spoke.” 

“I'm as fine as I can be given the circumstances. Cabinet meeting after cabinet meeting. Avez-vous entendu parler de Mulligan?” He asked, some twinge of worry in his words.

Lafayette sighed and was notably less enthusiastic. “Non. I'm afraid our friend still isn't taking calls. He… didn't recover well.” That's what Hamilton expected. Mulligan was a strong man, but Laurens meant so much to him. He hummed and went to respond, stopping when he heard the scraping of a chair against the ground. He looked over to see Jefferson had scooted away from the table and was looking at him. Hamilton raised an eyebrow, but was met with no verbal response. Instead, Jefferson raised a hand and pointed at his phone. 

“Alexander? Are you there?” Lafayette asked, confused by the sudden silence. Hamilton blinked and nodded, then realized Lafayette couldn't see him. “Yes. Just a moment, please.” He was still looking at Jefferson. His curiosity was piqued. Jefferson spoke. “Lafayette?” He asked. Hamilton nodded. “Can you…” He pauses, starts over. “I said hi.” He says, more confident. Hamilton gets the message. “Jefferson says hi, by the way. He wanted me to tell you.” He tells Lafayette, trying to sound unconcerned by the man's demeanor. The man's everything, really. Lost eyes, bad posture, twiddling thumbs. It suddenly became obvious again that he wasn't talking to Jefferson. “Oh? He could just speak to me, if he likes.” Lafayette didn't know, of course. Hamilton considered it before nodding again. “He says you can talk to him if you want.” He relayed the message to Jefferson, who perked up slightly and nodded, holding his hand out. Glad to see him a little less downcast, Hamilton handed his phone over.  
“Hi Lafayette. It's Tommy.” He said, point blank. Hamilton cracked another smile. He gathered the trash from both of their meals and threw it away as Tommy talked on the phone. Lafayette was doing most of the talking, really. And while Hamilton wouldn't necessarily say Tommy was cheerful, he was certainly in better spirits. It would probably give Lafayette some joy, too. 

He missed Lafayette.

“Ain't fun. Lotsa fighting and 's too loud.” Tommy said, his Southern drawl a little thicker than usual. He was quiet while Lafayette responded, then smiled. “Yeah.” He said, a boy of few words. Hamilton was considering his options. He could take Tommy home without telling Washington and deal with his wrath later. He could tell Washington and see how that goes. Or he could see if Tommy is ready to be big after he's off the phone. Option three seemed right. The meetings were important, after all. 

Hamilton felt a tug at his sleeve and looked over to see Tommy holding his sleeve on one hand and holding the phone out to Hamilton with the other. He thanked the boy and took the phone. “Hey Laf.” He greeted once more. “Il est merveilleux, Alexander. But why is he still at work?” Lafayette asked, concerned. Hamilton huffed out a laugh. “It was unexpected. I'll handle it; don't worry. Thank you for talking to him, Laf. He likes you.” Tommy was standing next to where Hamilton was leaned against the counter, still holding onto Hamilton's sleeve. “Bye, Laf. Call me if you hear anything from Mulligan, please.” He didn't like the slightly desperate edge to his own voice, but chose to ignore it. “Be well, Alexander.” Said Lafayette before he ended the call. Hamilton checked the time, put his phone away, and looked over at Tommy. 

He changed his mind about option three. Tommy needed it, in spite of the bad timing. 

“Hey Tommy, let's go talk to Uncle George.” The nickname slipped out easily. Their 'family tree’ was becoming a tangled web. Upon Tommy's cautious nod, Hamilton took his hand and began the walk to Washington's office. He knew the other employees would be too busy scrambling around to notice the act of affection. Not to mention Tommy's comfort was more important than other people's opinions. He would usually try to force some sort of small talk, but his charge seemed extra quiet that day so they continued in silence. It was a short walk, thankfully, and Hamilton entered without knocking. They had moved past that sort of formality a while ago. 

Washington glanced up from his stack of papers, starting; “Please, I don't need more bickering right now from--” He stopped when he noticed their hands. Backtracking, Washington turned his full attention to his two cabinet members and leaned back in his chair. 

“Tommy?”

“Hi Uncle George.”

Washington smiled and chuckled, nodding. “Hi Tommy. It's been a big day, huh?” He asked. 

Tommy hummed and nodded gravely. Hamilton chose to intervene. “I think I should get him back home, sir, if that's alright.” 

“That's fine. I'll call off the meeting. There's been enough screaming for one day.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Hamilton said, turning to Tommy.

“Let's go home.”


	2. Chapter Two

Hamilton supposed his own house was out of the question. It was a Saturday and that meant the kids would be home. He felt a bit guilty for not taking the day off to be with them, but he also knew that Saturday was cleaning day and the kids were probably busy anyway because of it. Jefferson's house? No. He'd feel like he was intruding. One option was still open. Hamilton pulled his phone out again as he walked Tommy out of the White House and towards his car. He was dimly aware they were being tailed by a few members of Washington's service, which had been on high alert the past week. He thanked them before opening the door for Tommy.

As Hamilton slid into his own seat, he hooked his phone up and used the car's controls to call Angelica. A few rings later and a couple yards down the path, she answered. 

“Alexander?” She asked. Tommy perked up. He knew that voice. 

“Yes, it's me. Though I assume caller ID would've told you that one.” He joked. “Is it alright if I head over to your place? Thomas and I had to take off from work a bit early.” His voice was tinged with a bit of nervousness. Angelica responded, sounding a bit distracted but still cheerful, “Of course. You know you're always welcome to visit, Alex.” She told him. Busy with driving through D.C. traffic, Hamilton didn't notice the nickname. He thanked her before ending the call and getting into the turning lane. Tommy was fidgeting a bit, having not been alone with Hamilton for so long before. “What about daddy?” He asked, looking over at Hamilton with obvious concern in his eyes. Hamilton sighed. “Still sick, I'm sure. Sorry kiddo. We can call him if you want?” He suggested. It had been a long day of many phone calls but he wasn't surprised at all when Tommy eagerly nodded. He tapped an icon on the dashboard screen and said, “Call Madison.” Immediately he could hear the ringing. Enough time went by that he thought Madison wasn't going to answer, and he could see Tommy beginning to panic and probably assuming the worst. Thankfully the ringing stopped and a strained voice answered.

“Hamilton?” It sounded like Madison just woke up and his question was followed with a few harsh coughs.

 

“Daddy!” Tommy wasted no time in making himself known, leaning forward in his seat. 

“Tommy? Hey baby boy.” Madison started. Tommy huffed something about not being a baby, but Madison carried on. “How's my little man?” He asked, clearing his throat. 

“Tired, daddy. Lotsa yelling today but Hammy helped.” He replied, looking to the driver. Hamilton chose to speak up. “He dropped during our lunch break. We're heading to Angelica’s place right now to wind down.” He informed Madison as he took a right. Not too far then. Madison hummed audibly. “Thank you, Hamilton. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, Tommy, but I'll make it up to you.” A pause so he could cough a few more times. “Be good for them, okay little man?” He was aware that the usually somber little boy could occasionally get into trouble. 

“Yes, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea.”

The call was ended and Tommy seemed a lot more relaxed. The only signs of anxiety left over were his fidgeting and when he silently began to chew at his shirt collar. A bad habit. While he didn't love pacifiers like Alex did, Tommy sometimes enjoyed chewing. It seemed to be one of those days. Hamilton reached a hand over and gently pulled the cloth out of the boy's mouth. “That'll mess up your clothes, Tommy.” He chided. Tommy pouted but nodded, looking out the window. 

Soon enough they were parked outside of Angelica's place. The bookstore wasn't packed, but there were a few patrons mulling about. Getting out of the car, walking around, and opening the door for Tommy, Hamilton quickly decided what to do. A foolproof plan, really. 

Hurry the hell up and go upstairs. 

It wasn't his greatest plan, but it would work. In theory. 

He still insisted upon holding Tommy's hand, press be damned. They were unlikely to encounter any cameras anyway. Hamilton guided Tommy into the bookstore and quickly spotted Angelica organizing a new display shelf. Angelica spotted them, too. She stopped what she was doing and hurried over, a wide smile on her face. “Hello boys. Go on upstairs. Once these last folks leave I can close up.” She said, pressing a quick kiss to Hamilton's forehead before heading back over to the shelf. Hamilton lead Tommy up the stairs and settled him down on Angelica's couch. “I'll be right back,” he started, “just getting you a drink.” Then he disappeared into what Tommy assumed was the kitchen. Before Hamilton could return, Angelica joined him in the living room. 

“Jefferson.” She greeted, cordially. She looked a bit confused as to why Tommy was sitting alone on her couch, but she also looked like she had lots of things going on in her head. Tommy stayed quiet. Hamilton came back in, carrying one of the spare sippy cups Angelica had kept in a kitchen cabinet. It looked to be filled with apple juice. Hamilton handed it to Tommy, and then Angelica seemed to tune in fully. “Oh!” She said, quietly. Hamilton turned to her. “Yes, Angelica?” He asked. She shook her head. “Nothing. I get it now.” Angelica assured him. Tommy was sucking at the sippy cup slowly, savoring his juice. 

“Hi Tommy.” Angelica tried again. The boy perked right up and stopped drinking so he could smile at Angelica.

“Hi.” 

Hamilton watched the exchange, bemused. “Tommy,” he called to get his attention, “would you like a nap?” He didn't ask if Tommy was tired. He knew that he was. The suggestion of rest alone made the little boy yawn. Still, he resolutely shook his head. “Wanna play.” He insisted. While he did cuddle a lot when he was little, he rarely got the chance to play. Hamilton nodded and looked to Angelica. “Got any toys?” He asked, smiling bashfully. He was a tad unprepared. Thankfully she nodded. “I've always got something laying around from Alex or the kids. I think there's a Lego set in my bedroom?” She suggested, unsure what type of toys Tommy preferred. He perked up and nodded eagerly though, relaxing the two caregivers. Angelica left to fetch the toy set while Hamilton settled down next to Tommy. He quickly cuddled up close to him, his shirt collar in his mouth again. Certainly no good for a nice button down. Hamilton sighed and called to Angelica; “I know it's a long shot but do you have any shirts that would fit him?” 

There wasn't a response, but Hamilton didn't mind. Angelica handled things well. He pulled Tommy's shirt from his mouth again and was met with another whine.

“Sorry pal.”

“Mean. Daddy would let me chew.” Tommy lied.

Hamilton chuckled and nodded. “Sure he would, kiddo. But maybe not on so nice a dress shirt.” He winked. Tommy huffed but knew he was defeated. Instead he tried chewing on the slightly soft plastic of his sippy cup spout. Hamilton let it go. Small victories and all. Tommy did seem smaller than last time. The usual seven year old seemed closer to five. He decided not to mention it and risk upsetting the stressed little boy. Angelica came back, a sweater over one shoulder while she carried the tub of Lego's. Hamilton nudged Tommy's shoulder. “Stand up for me, buddy.” He said as he did so himself. Tommy begrudgingly stood, watching Hamilton and Angelica. 

“I'm gonna take off your shirt now so you can put on something more comfortable, okay?” Hamilton told him before reaching out to undo the boy's tie. He waited for Tommy to nod his consent before he removed the tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. The boy squirmed a bit as he was undressed, whining in annoyance. Once the shirt was off, he shivered and looked away, blushing. Funny on such a usually confident man. Hamilton was having doubts about the validity of the bravado Jefferson always tried to flaunt. Maybe the man wasn't as self-assured as he seemed. Regardless, Hamilton leaned up and kissed his forehead before Angelica handed Tommy the sweater. Tommy thanked her and then put it on with only a small struggle. Hamilton noted that while he had worried Angelica wouldn't have a large enough shirt, the one on Tommy actually seemed a tad too large. He raised an eyebrow at the woman. “Ex.” She stated, simply. Hamilton hummed and didn't ask further. Angelica had a type. 

“Lego's now, please?” Tommy asked, tacking on the nicety last second. “I wanna build a tower with Hammy.” 

Angelica laughed and set the tub on the floor. “Of course, Tommy. I'm sure Hammy would be honored.” She winked at Hamilton before heading to the kitchen again. “I'm making dinner. Lasagna.” She left no room for argument and ignored the way Hamilton groaned. Hamilton turned back to Tommy, who was already sitting on the floor. “Lasagna. She wounds me so, Tommy.” He dramatized before dropping to the floor next to the boy in a rather impressive stage fall. He was rewarded with Tommy's giggles and he opened one eye to look up at him and grin. Tommy reached down and patted Hamilton's head. “Lasagna isn't that bad.” He offered. 

Hamilton rolled away, letting out an anguished sigh. “The cheese, Tommy! The cheese!” 

“I can hear you!”

“Oh wow, Tommy, there's some sort of rude cooking-ghost in the kitchen.” 

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “That's Angie.” He told Hamilton. 

“Nope. Cooking-ghost with an affinity for cheese.” Hamilton said with false finality. Tommy pulled at his sleeve, whining. “C’moooon. Lego's. We're gonna build a tower.” He reminded Hamilton, nodding to the blocks. 

Hamilton relented, sitting back up and scooting over to Tommy. He watched as the boy opened the container and dumped out a handful of pieces. Without further hesitation, Tommy got to work and clearly expected Hamilton to just know what to do without explanation. He watched for a few minutes before deducing that Tommy was building the base of the tower. With that knowledge, he began building a middle section to lock onto the base. It was odd that Tommy wasn't planning ahead and actually talking. Hamilton supposed it was better than him crying, though, so he didn't say anything about it. Tommy set down the base and reached out for Hamilton's piece. Hamilton had just made a standard and sturdy rectangular prism, since he wasn't sure if Tommy wanted any particular shape. The little boy seemed satisfied anyway. He clicked it into place on top of the base and then tapped the piece. “Another.” He instructed. Hamilton nodded and got to building. Tommy did the same. 

Angelica came back into the room a few minutes later, surprised by the quiet. She saw that the boys had been building their tower. It was just over two feet tall and only a little wobbly. “Hey boys.” She said, sitting on the couch. Tommy smiled at her before turning back to his project and grabbing Hamilton's hands.

Hamilton stopped his building. “What’s up, Tommy?”

“Give. Needs to be different.” Tommy informed him, gently tugging at Hamilton's half-done prism. Hamilton gently reminded him; “Say please, sweetheart.”

“Please?” Tommy questioned, looking a bit annoyed.

Hamilton let go of the blocks. Tommy took a few off the top and started adding different ones, making a pyramid on top of the cube. Once he was satisfied with his work, he clicked it into place on top of the tower. He scooted back and admired his own work. Hamilton and Angelica both perked up when they realized what it was.

“Oh! It's the Washington Monument!” Hamilton said, grinning. 

“That's great, Tommy.” Angelica added, reaching down to run a hand through the boy's hair. 

Tommy preened at the approval and pushed his head into the affectionate contact. Both of the adults chuckled at the proud little boy. Hamilton pulled out his phone and took a picture of the replica before tapping Tommy's shoulder. “Wanna be in the picture? I can show your daddy later.” He suggested, to which Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “And show pawpaw.” He insisted, that Southern accent dripping into his words and the blatantly Southern nickname. Knowing Washington was pretty much everyone's grandpa, Hamilton got the message and nodded. “Pawpaw, too.” He agreed. 

Satisfied, Tommy scooted back and sat cross-legged next to their creation. He smiled wide for the camera.

“Say cheese!”

“Cheese!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know the Washington Monument thing is a bit odd since Washington is the current president but LEAVE ME ALONE ITS HIS GREAT GREAT GREAT GREAT GRANDFATHER OR SOME SHIT.
> 
> Also yep didn't meet my word goal but who cares.
> 
> And I live in redneck Alabama so my knowledge of Southern speech is completely logical. Pawpaw is a thing here. Different from Papa. Different from Pa, even. It's weird here.


	3. Chapter Three

Madison was certain he was going to die. Well, maybe die. He might have been a bit hyperbolic. All the same, he felt like right shit. Like someone had shoved sandpaper down his throat and kicked him in the gut. Not the best feeling in the world. It didn't help that he was horribly riddled with guilt. He had missed too much work and didn't feel like he even deserved the job at that point. D.C. was alive and fighting around him, dancing over his head with political fervor and threats of militarization. He knew of the cabinet meeting he was missing, the godawful important screaming matches he needed to be present for. His head was pounding, spinning. Being sick was shitty to begin with, but being sick alone was worse.

He never really appreciated being alone. It was common for people in the political world to value alone time as a time to reflect brainstorm, but he didn't see the appeal. Having Dolley around would have been nice, but she was with relatives. Having Tommy around would have been delightful, but he wouldn't risk the boy's health.

That's when his phone buzzed from where it was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch he was laying on. The stairs up to his bed had seemed too daunting. He grabbed the device and unlocked it, seeing he had a text from Hamilton. He had a few brief seconds to be mildly concerned before he opened the conversation and saw Tommy's smiling face with the caption “he wanted to show you his tower. it's the washington monument. he's precious.” And Madison couldn't help but agree. He saved the picture, making a mental note to set it as his background later. Unable to resist, he called Hamilton and put the phone on speaker, setting it down on the table once more and relaxing again. After a few long rings, Hamilton picked up. Or, well, Madison assumed it was Hamilton until he heard Tommy's excited voice over the line.

“Daddy! Did you see my tower?” The little boy immediately asked. Madison chuckled.

“Yes, Tommy. It looks awesome. Did Hamilton help you?”

“Yeah! He did. He's real good at buildin’ stuff. Daddy, why ain't I with you?” 

“You know, sweetheart. Daddy's sick again. You don't wanna be sick, do you?”

He could hear Tommy humming from the other end of the line before he admitted that no, he did not want to be sick. “That's what I figured. I'm really sorry, buckaroo.” Madison said, feeling a bit bad in spite of his own sound logic. 

“Hm. 's okay. Hammy's playin’ with me and Angie is cookin’ la… la… “ The boy kept struggling with the word, showing just how deep in headspace he was. 

“Lasagna.” Another voice, Hamilton's voice, chimed in.

“Lasagna!” Tommy exclaimed, audibly proud of himself. “But Hammy don't like it.”

“That's because it isn't good.”

“Again, I can hear you!” A further away voice.

Madison laughed at all the commotion, but ended his laughter with a brash coughing fit. He could hear Tommy whine in distress, and then protest something with some indignant yelling. “Sorry,” Hamilton said, sounding like he was holding the phone, “Had to take it off speaker. The coughing was scaring him. I'd ask if you're feeling any better, but it seems redundant.” He continued. Madison cleared his throat and took a few gulps from the water bottle on the table before he spoke. “Sorry about that. Has he been good? Any tantrums? Has he gone potty? Does he want his ram? I can--” Hamilton cut him off; “Lay down, rest, and not worry so much. He's fine. He just wants to play with Lego's and have some food. No tears so far.” And no tears was a big accomplishment with Tommy, who usually cried all the time while little. He seemed to not be overthinking too much, and that was good. Madison liked that his boy was relaxing. 

“Alright. Well, sounds like you're doing good with him. And I should probably make myself some food, too. Can I say bye?” Madison asked, feeling a bit helpless. Of course Hamilton hummed his approval, and then he heard Tommy start rattling away again.

“The lasagna smells really good and I ain't stepped on a single Lego, daddy. I've been sharin’ and usin’ my manners, too. When can I come see you?” The eager little boy questioned.

“Hopefully soon, honey bunches. Daddy's gotta go so he can make his own food now, but he loves you lots.”

“Love you too! Bye, daddy.”

“Bye, sweet boy.”

He forced himself to hang up and sighed. How did he end up with such a precious little boy?

\---

Tommy whined in annoyance as a napkin was tucked into his shirt collar and Angelica started cutting his lasagna up for him. 

“Can do it.”

“I'm sure you can, but I really want to do it for you.”

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. The pouty boy looked over to Hamilton, who was sitting across from him.

“You're not cutting up his lasagna.” Tommy pointed out.

“Hamilton doesn't need me to.”

“Neither do I.”

Angelica sighed. Tough crowd. She looked over to Hamilton, face plainly pleading. Hamilton got the message and put his fork down, sighing dramatically. Fake it till ya make it and all that. He looked up to Angelica again. “Actually, Angie, you should help me. It's just so much food.” He gestured to his plate.

Angelica rolled her eyes but nodded and started cutting up Hamilton's lasagna. Once she finished, she moved back to Tommy's plate. The little boy had been watching with narrowed eyes, but slowly leaned back and nodded. “Okay.”

Thank god. Angelica quickly finished cutting up Tommy's food and handed him his fork before sitting down next to him to start eating her own food. She watched the boy out of the corner of her eye as she ate the lasagna, admittedly pleased with her own cooking. When Tommy poorly hid a burst of giggles, she didn't say anything. Tommy took a few more messy bites of lasagna before he giggled again, snorting. That's when Angelica noticed Hamilton was grinning as well. Odd for a man to be grinning as he eats a food he doesn't like. The two boys at the table suddenly giggled once more after the table gave a little shake. Angelica set down her fork and raised an eyebrow at them. “What's funny?” She asked. Tommy and Hamilton immediately went back to eating their food and trying to look as stone-faced as possible. They were failing miserably at the latter half. She waited for an answer but didn't get one.

Another shake of the table and giggle from Hamilton. 

Then a shake, a squeak, and a “stop it!” from Tommy, grinning in spite of himself. 

“Stop what?” Angelica asked him, seeing opportunity.

“Kickin’ me under the table.” 

“Way to give up the secret.”

Angelica sighed and rolled her eyes, but smiled. Of course they were being dorks. “Wow,” she started, “I can't believe you two are playing footsy.”

Tommy blushed, looking like he was attacked. “Am not!”

She simply hummed and shook her head. “Definitely playing footsy.” Angelica teased. 

“She's just jealous, Tommy.” Hamilton said. Angelica rolled her eyes once more. “I'm not too terribly jealous of being kicked under a table.” She said, disagreeing. Hamilton opened his mouth and was obviously about to retort when a strained cough and choking noise interrupted him. Instead, his head snapped over to Tommy, as did Angelica's. “Oh, shit.” He muttered before scrambling out of his chair and over to the choking boy, who was holding his throat and ineffectively trying to breathe. Hamilton pulled him out of his chair and wrapped his arms around his waist, struggling a bit with the much taller man. He quickly did a few thrusts, pushing hard and fast against Tommy's abdomen. Angelica was busy rushing into the living room to grab her phone in case she needed to dial 911.

Thankfully, after a few thrusts, Tommy heaved the food out and began breathing again. Hamilton immediately pushed the boy back down into his chair and started coaching his breathing with calm counting. Angelica came back with a glass of water instead and held it out to Tommy, who took it and downed a few sips, eyes wide and still obviously shaken up. Both caregivers were really feeling like shit, too, for letting it happen. What would Madison think? They had to tell Madison, right?

“You’re okay, Tommy.” Angelica stated, voice deliberately calm and steady. 

The boy nodded along. “Yeah. 'm okay.” He mumbled, seeming mostly convinced. Hamilton breathed a sigh of relief and ran a hand through the boy's curls.

“Bedtime.” Tommy said, having evidently made up his mind and decided he was done for the day.

“Bedtime. That's fine. Let's get you to bed.” Angelica agreed, not wanting to pressure the boy into anything else. She took his hand as he stood back up and walked with him out of the kitchen, Hamilton trailing behind them. The three were quiet for a while before Hamilton spoke up. 

“I'm gonna go clean up the living room. Put away the toys.”

He didn't wait for a response before he broke off from the group and went into the living room while the other two continued to Angelica's guest room. 

The guest room was still neatly made up, getting used relatively often with Alex visits and other family members dropping by often. She guided Tommy to the bed and pulled back the sheets before he sat down. He stayed quiet, not offering anything communication-wise. Angelica started for him. “Are you okay sleeping in what you have?” She asked. “Yeah. 'm okay.” He answered. She nodded and thought for a moment before continuing. “I can call your daddy before you go to bed so you can tell him goodnight.” She offered. The boy declined with a shake of his head. “Tired. Just wanna go to bed.”

Angelica nodded again. “Well, I'm sure Hamilton and I will be up for a while. Call us if you need anything at all, okay?” 

He simply nodded again. She took that as her cue to leave and did so, gently closing the door behind her and making her way back to the living room. Hamilton was sitting on the couch and the toys Tommy had been playing with were still spread out haphazardly on the floor. She didn't comment. Quietly, she just sat down next to him. A few minutes of relative silence went by before Hamilton finally spoke up.

“That was terrifying.” And that wasn't a lot of words for a man that usually had so many. Angelica nodded before she spoke.

“It was. But it was a freak accident and nothing we could've stopped.” She left no room for argument, but knew Hamilton would still try. 

The man did. “I don't know,” he started, “I feel horrible. That was horrible. I feel like I just let it happen.”

“You didn't, Alexander. You took action and helped him. You did really well. So many people will be grateful for what you did. You're grateful for what you did. It's okay.” Her own voice was a bit shaky, but Angelica really tried her best to stay strong and firm in what she said. She meant it. Every word of it. And Hamilton needed to know that.

“Okay.” 

That was all he said. She knew that was probably the best she was going to get out of him. Sighing, she slipped an arm around his shoulders to try and offer some comfort. 

“Terrifying.” He repeated, voice even more wobbly. 

Angelica ducked her head down to look at his face. With another sigh she rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her free hand, trying her best to exercise patience. Might as well check and be sure.

With that same free hand she reached over and gently grabbed his chin, moving his face so he had to look up at her. 

“Alex?”

Grabbing onto her and hugging her tight, Alex collapsed into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're welcome


	4. author's note? lmao

I done forgot this fic existed lmao do y'all still want more of this?? I'm not the biggest fan of writing Tommy anymore but ain't got nothing else going on in my life.


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